I can sing about You
I can BE You
I used to feel torn in two
and thought I’d missed a cue
but now it’s clear:
it makes no darned difference to You!
this untreatable schizophrenia
is my natural sacred state.
either I can sing about You
or I can BE Your roaring silence
whatever role I think I play
is You, playing for Your own delight
absorbed in either
it’s all the same to You!
Old mates mill around at the moment.
One is convinced global evil is now over-powering goodness, and wants to leave
One is bored, yet afraid to emerge from her cocoon of security.
One is desperate to do something productive and meaningful for humanity.
One is locked into needing to know “what’s next?” and remains stuck.
They share the same symptoms of discontent: mind’s default dualism. They still believe in something they have failed to deeply inquire into, something that drives the great wheel of suffering.
And when I acknowledge their stories I too descend into a kind of schizophrenia . . . knowing something I cannot yet share, for when I try, they cannot hear.
Sometimes I feel like an actor in a phony role, yet there’s acute awareness that this seeming dissembling is not outside of Life’s perfect play.
It takes some getting used to, this unarguable Totality.